Unexpected, To Say The Least
by i-effed-it-all-up
Summary: "You can't bring yourself to hate Elphaba Thropp any longer." Galinda and Elphaba become friends, and Elphaba finally learns to open up to someone. And somewhere amongst the chaos, they fall in love. It's all quite unexpected, to say the least.
1. Be Still

**Be Still**

You can't bring yourself to hate Elphaba Thropp any longer.

You're not sure what's brought this about. It may be the way she lounges, stretched out on her bed, one hand holding a rather large book in her lap while the other arm drapes lazily over the top of the binding. It may be her quick wit, and the way she always has a counter attack for any slew of insults you direct towards her. Perhaps it is even that smile, small and fleeting though it is, that graces her face every now and then when she reads a particularly fascinating and engaging passage. But whatever it is, it's got the loathing inside you dulling to nothingness with each passing day.

The specific, defined turning point, however, comes one calm, quiet night in the room you share. You are awoken from your slumber by… well, you're not quite sure what's awoken you. A warm breeze flits in through the window, and crickets crick softly just outside, and all seems right and peaceful.

But it's not peaceful, and very much not right, if the whimper from across the room is any indication. You frown, curious, and prop yourself up on one elbow, listening. It comes again, a bit louder, the slightest bit more distraught, and altogether quite unsettling.

"Miss Elphaba?" you whisper, gently, nervously. "Miss Elphaba, are you quite all right?"

Your roommate does not reply, only shifts and hunches her shoulders, her back to you as she curls tightly on her side. You furrow your perfect blonde brow and then quickly reverse the action – you mustn't go about giving yourself wrinkles! You maneuver to the green girl's bed and peer down at her, and become increasingly unnerved.

Elphaba's eyes are open, but only just, and they are fogged. You deduce she must be dreaming. Tears make steaming red tracks down her face, and you remember her allergy to water. Her brows curve slightly in the way those of a person in pain might, mouth tight with sadness. Her jaw works, locking and unlocking, and she whimpers again.

"Oh Elphie," you sigh, the endearment slipping out before you can stop it, and you decide you rather like it. "You foolish green thing, you're hurting yourself." You mean it in more ways than one. You gently press the pads of your thumbs to the streaks on Elphaba's face, rubbing them soothingly. Elphaba moans again and says "Please. I'm sorry."

Elphaba does not have nightmares like other normal people. When any other person might scream and thrash, the green girl is mostly quiet, and stays quite still, rigid almost, all her muscles coiled to a point where you fear she might pull something.

"It's all right," you murmur, feeling you should reassure her. "It's all right, dear, don't be sorry. I'm not mad. Just relax. Shh." You gently rub circles into her back, willing the tension to eke out.

"It's my fault," Elphaba opines, voice breaking and small, and your heart cracks. "It's not," you say, even though you have no idea what she is referring to. "You didn't do anything. Please relax, darling, relax. That's it." You're relieved when she begins to do what you say, shoulders slumping and muscles unwinding. A small sigh slips through her parted lips and she blinks, and suddenly she has returned.

"Galinda?" She sounds small, scared. Sad.

"Go back to sleep. I'll stay with you." She looks too distraught, too exhausted, to deny you or make any obscene comments like she usually would, and that makes your eyes dull with sadness. Nevertheless you climb into bed behind her, draping one arm over her waist carefully, hoping not to upset her further. A pregnant silence ensues, and you shift before finally venturing to say "Consider yourself lucky, Miss Elphie. Only for you would I be caught dead in these hideocious brown sheets."

This elicits a snort and a chuckle, along with a sarcastic "I'm honored, truly." And you know she'll be all right.


	2. Top To Bottom

**Top to Bottom**

Elphaba buttons her shirts from the top down.

The first time you make this discovery, you've nearly walked in on her as she readies for bed in the bathroom. You go to turn away from the slightly ajar door, to give your roommate some privacy, but for some unfathomable reason you find yourself observing her instead.

She's just scrubbed herself down with one of her strange cleansing oils and sits on the edge of the tub, her back to you. Her skin glistens like pure emeralds, and you are entranced. But the beauty and color is not the only thing about her skin you notice.

Scars. Dozens of them, trailing along her back, all various sizes. Most of them have the discoloration of old burn wounds, but some, such as the one closer to the left, look like acts of violence brought on by another person.

You gasp, unable to control yourself, and Elphaba turns. When she spots you, her eyes widen and she quickly thrusts her arms through an oversized flannel shirt, not saying anything and avoiding your gaze. She then proceeds to button it, top to bottom. It seems everything your roommate does is odd and out of the norm, down to the way she dresses herself. You find it impossibly endearing.

Ashamed at having been caught spying, you quickly move across the room and sit on your bed, thoroughly shaken. You wonder where on earth those scars have come from, who could ever want to cause Elphaba physical harm. You also wonder if there are more scars on her front, as well…. The thought makes you shudder.

When Elphaba exits the bathroom, she is wearing only the flannel and no bottoms, as it reaches close to her knees. "Galinda," she says (you both dropped the formalities when you became close friends) "I'm quite sorry about that." She looks sincere, as ashamed as you feel.

You had been expecting any number of things. Anger, embarrassment, irritation with your overall stupidity and air-headedness. However, an apology was not one of the things you expected.

"I… I don't… what?" You stutter, rather gracelessly, and mentally slap yourself for the unladylike blather.

Elphaba sighs and sits on her own bed, fiddling with the threadbare covers. "I'm not blind, Galinda. I know my body and its overall greenness is quite unnerving and indeed very horrifying. I'm sorry you had to see it, in all its verdigris glory."

"Oh Elphie!" You gasp, "That couldn't be further from the truth! Quite the contrary, I think you're beautiful." You don't understand how anyone could find this entrancing, exotic green girl horrifying or unnerving in any way.

"No need to lie, Galinda; I know you saw the scars as well, and if those aren't disgusting then what is?" Elphaba directs her brown gaze to the floor, as if the plush off-white carpet has suddenly become very interesting. You shake your head and move swiftly across the room, perching delicately next to the green girl and gently touching her shoulder. She flinches and glances up at you.

"It's true your scars upset me," you begin, and Elphaba looks away again, shamed. "But not for the reasons you think. They don't draw away from your beauty; I doubt anything could. But the idea of anyone harming you causes me great distress, Elphie."

She frowns at you, forehead wrinkling, and you restrain yourself from telling her that ladies should not wrinkle their brows so. "Who said anyone harmed me?" she inquires defensively, eyes becoming guarded.

"Elphie, no one acquires that many scars by accident. Besides, this one closer to your left side looks suspiciously like a stab wound." You prod the area without thinking, and Elphba's whole body tenses up. You pull away quickly. "Oh, I'm so sorry, truly! Did I hurt you?"

"Of course not." But you know you did.

There's an uncomfortable silence in which you attempt to study your roommate's face, but she turns away, uncertain. "Are you going to tell me how you came about receiving them?" you murmur cautiously.

Another long, drawn-out pause, and you fear you've pushed too far. Just as Elphaba's silence becomes too much to bear, she murmurs, "My father hates me."

You let out a small "oh," of sadness and sympathy, and Elphaba disregards it, continuing. "He hates me for being green, for being a freak of nature. To him I'm sinful, hateful, a disgrace. He… when I was very small, he often acted upon his disgust for me. Physically."

You have no idea what to say, so you reply by resting your head on her shoulder. She becomes stiff upon the contact, but doesn't pull away, so you don't, either.

Now you understand why Elphaba is always so wary of others, why she didn't trust you at first. To have such a horrendicious childhood…. You can't fathom it.

It isn't until you feel her trembling that you realize she's crying. You are surprised, but then again you aren't. The only time Elphaba has ever cried was when she was unaware and unconscious, dreaming horrible dreams. But, she's just confessed to a truly devastating part of her childhood, something painful and emotional, and so you can understand her tears.

"Pretty girl," you sooth, holding her tightly around the shoulders with one arm, the opposite hand holding and stroking hers. "My sweet Elphie, it's all right. Let it out." And let it out she does.

When her tremors slow and sniffles quiet, you move to kneel in front of her. "Better?" you inquire.

"Quite," she agrees. "No one's ever called me pretty before."

"Well why in Oz not?" you demand rhetorically, "It's entirely true."

And then something amazing happens. Elphaba's cheeks turn a darker shade of emerald (A blush? Could it be?) and she smiles. She doesn't smirk, or leer, or even sneer. She really, truly smiles, with her eyes and the works.

And she has dimples. _Dimples._

As you smile back and brush the remaining tears away from her mildly burned cheeks, you realize something.

You are horribly enamored with your strange, wonderful green roommate.


	3. Green as Sin

**Green as Sin**

You run into your room in tears. Elphaba is there, reading as per usual. She doesn't look up when you slam the door, as she is used to you being in one of your "moods". But today is different, and she seems to realize this when you curl up onto your bed with a pitiful sob.

"Galinda?" she wonders, book lowering, face emerging from behind it. Her dark eyes are concerned behind her glasses. "What ever is the matter?"

"F-Fiyero!" you manage to sputter, and you see a flash of anger cross your roommate's eyes. She's up and at your side in a moment.

"What's he done?" she snarls. "Did he harm you? I swear if he did…" You're surprised by the sheer venom injected into this sentence by your usually passive friend. Her green face seems to have turned a darker emerald in her rage.

"No! No, Elphaba, I'm fine… physically anyways. It's just… he doesn't talk to me anymore! He's always so moodified, off in his own world. I think… I think he doesn't love me anymore!" And with the truth now out in the open, you promptly burst into tears once more.

"Oh Galinda, you silly girl," sighs Elphaba fondly, eyes softening, and she takes you into her arms with surprising gentleness. "Fiyero probably just got a higher mark on the last History exam than he expected and is worried his reputation as the class airhead will be tarnished."

You giggle in spite of yourself. "Oh Elphie, you always know just what to say." Elphie. You haven't said that name in weeks.

"Elphie?" she wonders, looking puzzled. She clearly doesn't remember. You giggle in glee, thankful for the distraction. "Your nickname! Isn't it cute?"

But Elphaba still looks taken aback. "Nickname?" she questions again, as if the idea is foreign to her. You gasp as a thought hits you.

"Don't tell me you've never had a nickname before!" you declare, horrified by the thought.

Elphaba's face turns suddenly bitter. "Of course I have. Plenty. Green Bean, Bean Stalk, Freak, Mean Green Thing …. The list is impossibly extensive."

Your heart twists, and you wrap your arms around her tightly. She stiffens, surprised. "Oh Elphie, I wish I'd never said so many horrendicious things to you! If only I'd known what a good soul you have…"

She snorts. "Soul? I don't have one." You're startled. No soul? How could anybody think that about themselves? Elphaba is one of the sweetest, most kind hearted people you've ever met. Her smile lights a room, when she laughs music plays in the distance, and she always takes care of you. If anybody should have a soul, it'd be Elphaba.

"How could you say that?" you murmur quietly, burying your head in her shoulder.

"Anyone who's green as sin can't possibly have a soul. My father often makes sure to remind me."

You bite your lip and snuggle her closer.

"I'm not sure how yet, but I will teach you to love yourself, Elphaba Thropp."

She doesn't look convinced.


	4. Bent

**Bent**

Elphaba Thropp is bent.

Not broken; broken is too definite; it implies permanent damage. If something is bent, you can straighten it back out. A bent heart is not nearly as impossible and hopeless as a broken one; it can be fixed. In theory, anyway.

In reality, the theory does not apply.

"Galinda, _please._"

"Just tell me what the nightmares are about, Elphie! I just got done telling you the deep, dark enigmas of my own past; it's your turn!"

Elphaba scoffs. "Telling me about the _scandalicious _account of how you once kissed a boy without your parents' blessing, at a party you attended without consulting them, is hardly revealing the deep dark truths of your past, Galinda."

You put on your best hurt pout. "But it _was_ a dark secret! Momsie and Popsicle would have been so upset, had they known-"

You're startled when Elphaba bristles suddenly. "You don't get it, do you?" she snaps, and you feel your hackles rising in defense.

"Why are you yelling at me, Elphie?" You demand, just the slightest bit enraged. It may or may not be…. _That time _of the month, and you're feeling rather short-fused.

"In your world, everything is butterflies and rainbows. Your worst fear is breaking a nail. You're _frivolous_, Galinda."

You're already upset, and maybe just a bit hormonal, and you don't know what frivolous means but it holds a negative connotation that only serves to boil your blood further. So you can't really hold yourself accountable for what you shout next.

"W-well, at least I'm not _green_!"

You regret the words an instant after they're out of your mouth.

Elphaba calms almost immediately. There is a flash of hurt, a short sparking image of bent soul, before she becomes suddenly emotionless. "No, Miss Galinda, you're not," she agrees quietly, and the formality smarts a bit, "How lucky for you."

And she's gone so swiftly you hardly see her leave.

You feel incredibly stupid, which seems to be a trend for you. You sit on Elphaba's bed and cry a little, feeling trapped and unsure of what to do. You _know_ how sensitive Elphie is about her skin, making what you said ten times worse than it might have been, originally. You feel shame greater than anything you've ever known – _real _shame, not the kind you experience over attending a party you're not supposed to. That brand of shame is shallow – this is something more.

This is the shame borne from hurting another human being.

And you have to make it right – not just for yourself, obviously, but for Elphaba as well.

You don't have to look far to find her – in fact you don't have to look at all. She sits directly outside the door, back pressed to the wall, knees drawn up, face buried in folded arms. She is so still and so silent that for a moment you believe her to be asleep. But then she looks up at you, and you are entirely captivated by that bent look in her eyes.

Elphaba Thropp's emotions are bent towards self-loathing, and it's time you straightened her out.

"I'm sorr-" she starts to say.

"My family is made entirely of scholars," you interrupt her, and her mouth snaps shut and for a moment she just looks at you.

"I-what?" She can hardly respond.

"My family," you repeat, and you take a seat beside her. "All geniuses. All college graduates. They all expect me to do great things – to become a politician, a public figure. But I can barely keep afloat in my classes, let alone run a county or a country. If I don't pass my classes, I'll be the first Upland to not graduate from college. That's a lot of pressure. I feel like a failure, a lot of the time."

Elphaba's eyes are soft in their gaze, and she takes your hand as you use the other to wipe an errant tear. "There," you say, "you know one of my deep, dark fears. You don't have to tell me yours now, but I'd like you to… someday."

It seems that Elphaba will not tell you now, but her eyes say that she's working on it, that you'll find out soon enough what plaques her nights so. Until then, you will comfort her without question. Because whether you like it or not, you're bent too, and you believe that together you can change for the better. After all, bent things are much easier to fix than broken things (in theory, of course), and neither one of you is broken. Not yet.


	5. Only Skin

**Only Skin**

You keep a large, Victorian mirror on the wall by your bed.

This is completely understandable, of course, because your vanity mirror is simply too small to admire your entire outfit within. This mirror encompasses your image from your knees up – you can turn about this way or that to judge your own appearance. It is a large oval framed by beautiful twisting designs carved out of gold – a gift from your father. "To remind you of how beautiful you are, my dearie," he'd said, and beautiful you always feel when you look into it.

So, it is easy to presume that it never occurred to you that Elphaba may feel quite the opposite about the reflective piece.

You soon work this out for yourself, however. You've just had a date with Fiyero – he's still acting distant and a bit moodified, but he was slightly more engaged this time than others. You're floating a bit, the way Fiyero's beauty and attention, however minimal, always make you feel. You're about to burst into your room in a bout of excitement to squeal at Elphaba about the wonderfulment of it all when you remember it's actually quite late – past curfew, in fact. You and Fiyero had to sneak back to the dorms.

So, with both the fear of getting caught and the fear of waking your delicately insomniatic roommate, you proceed by grabbing the doorknob with both hands, twisting gently. You push open the door silently and ever-so-carefully to find that this is futile – Elphaba is not asleep.

In fact, she is very much up and about – standing before your large Victorian-style mirror, twisting about this way and that. Much the way you often do. You would smile – you would find it amusing and a bit endearing – if it weren't for the look of absolute dissatisfaction and loathing on her face. She finally turns to face the mirror, eyes narrowed, nose scrunched – this is normally the face she'd make at Shen Shen or Pfanee. To see her looking at herself with such…. _disgust_ hurts your heart.

Her lips curl downward and she turns away, unable to bare her own appearance any longer. This hurts you most, and so you finally step in and close the door behind you, making sure it clicks noisily enough behind you to point to your entrance. Elphaba starts, whipping around to face you.

"Galinda," she gasps, surprised – "I hadn't heard you come in."

"Elphie," you sigh, "do you really hate yourself so much?"

The green girl has no answer, just turns her gaze downcast and folds her arms before her hollow chest.

"You're beautiful, you know," you throw out nonchalantly, putting down your purse and rummaging through your dresser for night clothes. "Your hair is so-"

"Oh _please!_" Elphaba bellows, and the wind outside suddenly picks up to a howl, high and menacing. You jump, surprised by the sudden storm, and look at your green roommate. She is looking directly at you, fire in her eyes, a scowl set deep in her mouth. _Wrinkles! _Your mind automatically screams at the deeply carved lines the scowl creates, but you restrain yourself.

"Elphie?" you try, but she cuts you off again.

"I'm disgusting, Galinda. This skin is proof of it. It's a mark of my soiled soul, or lack thereof. I'm a monster, a-"

It's your turn to interrupt. "Elphaba Thropp, _you listen to me_!" You stomp your foot, firmly.

You've never taken this tone with anybody, let alone Elphaba, and so she looks quite surprised, mouth clapping shut.

"Come here," you command, and you grab her by the wrist. The two of you stand in front of the mirror.

"Look at your reflection," you say. She does, and pain fills her eyes. Consequently, it fills your heart as well. "Tell me what you see."

"Green," she manages to mumbles hoarsely. You wait for more, but nothing comes.

"Is that all you see?"

No answer.

"All right," you say calmly. "You wanna know what I see? I see a deeply intelligent girl, with a kind heart. I see quick wit and cleverness. I see deep brown eyes and silky dark hair. And I see unique, dazzlingly emerald skin that is exotic in every way. I see your green skin, Elphie, it's there. But it's not the only thing I see. It doesn't define you. Do you understand?"

Tears are making little steaming marks on her face. She says nothing, just stares at the floor, hardly acknowledging the burning.

"Elphie?" you urge, slightly concerned, when suddenly she takes a deep, shuddering breath.

"He…. He said…"

You don't know who "he" is, but you ask, "What did he say, Elphie?" anyway.

"Father said… it's all my fault. My skin's fault."

"What is?"

Another breath. "When my mother was carrying Nessa, my father became concerned that the new baby might come out…. Might end up…."

"Green," you gently finish for her, and she nods.

"So he made her chew milk flowers, day and night. Only…. Only they made Nessa come too soon, and… her little legs all tangled…. Mother never woke up…" She can't bring herself to say anymore, so she doesn't. She looks down and away from you, ashamed, as if now that you know her secret you will now hate her. This is the complete opposite of how you feel.

You're trying to figure out what to say next, when she makes a sound distinctly similar to a sob and you no longer have to think. Instead you wrap both arms around her and squeeze as she is taken by violent shudders. She cries for real this time, the sound of a broken heart leaving her in short bursts. Her whole being shakes within your hold, so much that you can barely keep your arms around her. And while she moans "My fault, my fault, this dreadful skin…" you murmur "Not your fault, so beautiful, milk flowers' fault…" and rock her to and fro.

And all the while your heart fills with a feeling so strong it scares you for a moment. You feel warm and your fingertips tingle, and you are aware of one thing and one thing only.

You are entirely and hopelessly _in love_ with the disaster that is Elphaba Thropp.


End file.
